


Myths and Motor Oil

by roguesgallery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Rey (Star Wars), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Ben Solo is a nerd, Eventual Smut, F/M, Footnotes, Happy Ending, Mythology - Freeform, Omega Ben Solo, Rey is confused and thirsty, writing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguesgallery/pseuds/roguesgallery
Summary: “Alphas and Omegas? I thought they were a myth.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Azuwrite for betaing and The Writing Den for being so supportive. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> ART ALERT! The insanely talented [BazineApologist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BazineApologist/pseuds/BazineApologist) has drawn Rey and Ben's first meeting. It even has the cactus! Please send the artist love on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/bazineapologist/status/1118570127639793664?s=20)

She notices him. Of course she notices him. He would be impossible to miss, even if Jakku wasn’t a dead town in a dead county. No one comes to Jakku. Jakku is a place you are from, and hopefully, a place you leave; not a place you chose if you had a choice and not a place to make a home.

But he is. He spends his first day cleaning out the junk from the dilapidated two story building, across the barely paved street from Rey’s own place. He hauls a double mattress up the stairs by himself, sweat drenching the back of his dark grey t-shirt. He moves boxes, dozens of boxes, with care, but absolutely no show of strain. His dark hair is sticking to his forehead, his shirt is obscenely tight across his shoulders and Rey is getting absolutely no work done.

Then he covers every window facing the street with black out curtains and Rey starts to regret her fascination. They do not need another meth lab around here. He hangs a sign out in front of the window that says ‘Solo Rare Book Restoration’ in delicate curling letters and she has to refrain from sighing in relief. Plutt’s Salvage Shop may never have seen a first edition of, well, anything, but Rey knows value, and she knows the desert sun, rarely do the two go together.

Rey has never been a big reader, when would she get the time? But the few decent books she could scrounge or borrow from the bookmobile have been deeply loved and appreciated. A few even made it into her go bag despite their utter lack of practical value. If she had ever needed to run from Plutt’s, she was not leaving them behind. Often, they had been her only source of company and kindness.

Plutt had been buried for a year now, but she still hadn’t been able to unpack that go bag.

She watches him push his shaggy hair out of his face, revealing, frankly, ridiculous ears, especially paired with a face that solemn and a body that…solid.

She was starting to wonder if you could go through puberty a second time.

Like reading, Rey hadn’t had much time for men. When Plutt had been alive he had kept her tied to the shop. She was lucky the foster program wouldn’t let him remove her from high school or she may have never graduated. Since he died Rey had been busy keeping the shop afloat and keeping an eye out for Plutt’s ‘business associates’.

Still, this man. This man she wanted to meet. It was only neighbourly.

Sure, she mostly communicated with her neighbours in grunts and nods, but that was because they didn’t have much to say to each other outside the practicalities of work. In Jakku, you either worked and ate or didn’t and starved. Rey could never quite forgive her neighbours for believing that standard applied to recently abandoned five years olds too.

But this guy. He was new. He was different. He may look sweaty and dusty right now, but it wasn’t baked into him like everyone else Rey saw on a daily basis. He was dressed in well made clothes, with a dangerous lack of eye and head covering. His skin was pale, and dotted with moles, but it would redden soon. Maybe she could give him some tips… and she was still staring. Rey blessed the miniscule, dirty windows of her tiny office. Sure, she might suffocate in the heat when her ancient AC finally dropped dead, but she was almost positive he wouldn’t be able to see her creeping.

Rey splashed some water on her face and neck, scrubbing quickly under her arms and tightening her buns. She put on some lip chap and quickly gave up on getting the grease out from under her nails. She just wouldn’t touch anything.

She grabbed one of her many cactus off her crowded windowsill. There, a plant as a housewarming gift, that was the definition of neighbourly. She had seen enough TV to know that.

It took about 30 seconds for her to cross the sandy road that seperated their two businesses slash homes. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. No answer. She had just seen him go inside after affixing his sign. He couldn’t be that far, and it was a work day. Okay, there may not have been an OPEN sign to go with the delicately lettered wooden sign, but it was normal working hours…Rey turned the knob and let herself in.

The smell hit her like a 10 ton truck. If she had been asked to guess what a rare book store would smell like she would have guessed dust and maybe glue.

She did not expect it to smell like  _sex._

Sex, pine trees and the kind of salty damp she imagined would live on cool rocks leading to the ocean.

He entered the room. He was bigger than she could have guessed from across the street. He filled the doorway, broad shoulders and thick thighs. His mouth opened wordlessly. He may have been panting.

Rey dropped her cactus.

Rey jumped.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs clenching his waist, burying her nose in his neck. She nuzzled his sweaty neck happily as his arms moved tentatively around her, squeezing more firmly as she licked a strip up his neck to those ridiculous, beautiful ears. His chest expanded with a deep breath. He sighed out a quiet word in the most satisfied, warm and chocolate dark voice she had ever heard.

“Alpha.”

As strange as that word was, it wouldn’t have stopped Rey. Not when he was tilting his head to the side, exposing his throat and an area on his shoulder that smelled like concentrated pleasure. Rey was beyond stopping as she licked the slightly rough skin under her tongue and moaned happily. He grunted and jerked to the side, bumping into the messy desk beside the door that was covered in half unpacked boxes.

**CRASH**

A strong ammonia smell filled the room, instantly clearing Rey’s head. She raised her head, staring into his dark eyes. She could only imagine what her face was saying. Nothing good that’s for sure. She pushed at his chest and he let her slide down his body, silently.

“I’m sor- I have no- I’ve never- What was that?” Rey backed away from him, nearly stepping in the spreading puddle of dirt, cactus, and red ink. It looked like blood, she noticed distractedly.

“Did you roofie me?” Oh, god, she just jumped a strange man. A HUGE strange man and she was alone, and he had blackout curtains over every window and if he was some aerosol spray rapist she was going to beat him to death with his own, admittedly very lovely, wooden furniture.

“No! No! Alpha, no!” He looked around wildly, hands out in a placating gesture. “Look, I’m going to open the back door, let some air in.” He shuffled away from her, palms still out, practically sliding along the wall in his desperation to give her some space.

He opened the backdoor, letting the bright desert sun blast in, propping the door open with a box of clothes.

Rey’s shoulders dropped a notch at his behavior, though her weight remained balanced on the soles of her feet, ready to run or spring at the slightest hint of serial killer.

“What. the. Fuck. Was. That.” She stared him down, which was hard because he had to be over 6 feet, but Rey had been working on her glare since she was five.

“I’m Ben,” he offered.

“Explain. Now.” Rey was starting to regret never making use of Arizona’s open carry laws.

“I’m Ben. I’m an…omega. You’re an alpha, and we are…compatible,” he finished, pushing his messy hair off his forehead and tugging lightly on the neck of his t-shirt. A t-shirt Rey had apparently mangled all out of shape from the way it now gaped at the neck.

Rey started laughing hysterically and didn’t stop until she was safely back in her shop, behind three locks, her favorite baseball bat clenched tightly in her hands, her abdomen hurting.


	2. Chapter 2

What did he expect? Really, what? Did he expect her to sit down, like an admiring student, to listen to the stories he had pulled out of his begrudging mother and bitter uncle? He could tell her all about the shitshow his grandparents’ mating had been or regale her with every miniscule bit of ‘proof’ of historical alphas and omegas he had found pouring over ancient Roman graffiti.

Truth was he hadn’t been expecting anything. That was why he had moved to Jakku in the first place. A big “Fuck You” to his family, his career, Snoke, and his hopeless dream of finding His Alpha.

A desert to piss off his Uncle: Check.  
Junky dial up and a patchy cell network to discourage his mother: Check.  
A tiny population, grossly outnumbered by tumbleweeds and lizards where his misanthropy could thrive? Check.  
A gorgeous Alpha dusted with freckles and gold flecks in her hazel eyes?...Check.

Alphas and Omegas were already so rare. He had no idea how many lived in the modern world, but knew it was few enough that they were only referenced in books on ancient history, myths and some really dedicated historical erotica.

He was a straight male Omega, seemingly even rarer. Ben remembered reading a BBC news article about a one in a million snail with a counterclockwise shell who couldn’t mate with regular snails due to their genitals not being aligned. He had over identified with that snail to a disturbing degree, leading to a two week bender and many, many unsatisfying sexual encounters.

So, of course, when he finally met a terrifying and amazing female Alpha, he managed to scare her off completely within minutes. Because he was a Solo-Organa-Skywalker, goddamnit. Unexpected and disastrous is what they do.

God, she had smelled like gingerbread, warm sheets fresh out of the dryer and new rain. She smelled nothing like the desert and everything like home.

A home with a warm bed, no work and the rain discouraging any activity but cocooning deeper into the blankets... And her. No reason to stop from nuzzling into the soft downy hairs at the back of her neck, from rubbing his body against her sleep warmed form, letting her pleasure wet his fingers as her soft moans broke the early morning silence…

And now he was going to have to hit something. Ben stepped out into his backyard, his punching bag already set up and ready to go. He had made a hobby over the years of ignoring therapists’ suggestions, but working his feelings out through physical activity was one that he had stuck with. He had the punching bag set up before he had unpacked his dishes.

What to do now? That was the question. Obviously, not another face to face meeting. That could only lead to restraining orders and premature ejaculation. Ben practiced his right hook, moving lightly from foot to foot. The sun was beginning to set and the incoming cool desert night felt like heaven against his sweaty back. He paused to pull his grey shirt off, it being more sweat than cotton at this point.

The answer was, as it had been his whole life, books. His whole collection wasn’t here yet. It was coming in a climate controlled security van, but there were always a few books he couldn’t handle being parted from. Books that keep his hope going long after it should have extinguished.

He steadied the swinging punching bag and went back into his shop. He grabbed a towel from the small bathroom, wiping himself off before climbing the narrow stairs to his apartment. Usually he wouldn’t handle any of his books without gloves and a surgical level of cleanliness, but this book was different. It was a first edition, true, but it had been his grandmother’s, and had been well loved before it had been passed to him. Edith Hamilton’s Mythology had been his constant companion since he was eight, a precocious and intensely awkward child who already prefered books to other children. He used to dream of being an archeologist, pouring over the ruins of the Oracle of Delphi or discovering the long lost mysteries of Demeter’s harvest festival. He learned Greek and Latin along with Hebrew, swallowing languages with a thirst that only grew as it was wetted. He had no clue then that he was preparing himself for his lifelong obsession perfectly. Coincidences like that ran in his family too.

The book fell open naturally to his favorite story - Cupid and Psyche. The Greek & Roman pantheon was largely divided between Alphas and Omegas. The few beta gods appeared in stories much less frequently and often were dismissed by the ruling gods. Demeter was the prototype Omega, of course, representing the fullness of the harvest. Zeus, the worst Alpha to ever Alpha along with his Alpha wife, Hera, who wasn’t much better. Even before he presented, before he knew these myths weren’t just stories, he had reread Cupid and Psyche obsessively. Psyche, the beautiful Alpha, who men were content to admire and never wanted to mate. Cupid, the Omega son of Venus, who fell in love at first sight and smell with Psyche, despite his mother’s desire to punish her. Psyche was told her bridegroom would be a winged serpent who would carry her off from a rocky mountain. Instead, in the dark, she could smell that he was the Omega husband and lover she had always dreamed of. Nothing can go too smoothly in Greek myths, where was the fun in that? The Greeks feared and worshiped their gods, but also acknowledged they were idiots who you would cross the street to avoid if at all possible. After a tragedy of hidden identities, meddling sisters, lost trust and a truly terrible MIL, Psyche proved herself a strong and devoted Alpha and, “ _So all came to a most happy end. Love and the Soul (for that is what Psyche means) had sought and, after sore trials, found each other; mated, and that union could never be broken._ ”

That line was the balm and bane of his existence.

Ben grabbed his Rhodia wirebound notebook and his favorite oversized Diamond Point Flat Top pen to compose possibly the most important letter of his life.

He paused. Crap. He didn’t even know her fucking name. Straight to it then.

Ms.,

I apologize for not being at my best this afternoon. Your arrival was a shock to me as was our reaction to each other. I have never met a compatible Alpha before. The only other Alphas I have known have been family members or men. As hard as this may be to accept, Alphas and Omegas are not just ancient myths and stories. They are a real, if small, part of the human population. I have many theories about our development and decline if you’d care to hear them, but that is neither here nor there. I would recommend contacting your family, as it seems to be an inherited condition.  
I would like to give you this book. It helped me understand myself better. If I may suggest, Cupid and Psyche is a personal favorite and it applies to our situation as a male Omega and female Alpha. I think you will find female Alphas are as formidable as you seem to be.  
I will not force my presence on you. I have had negative experiences with male Alphas and do not wish to make you feel the same, despite our reversal of designations. Please accept my gift and I would be honoured to answer any questions you may have.

My number is 555-3010.

Yours,  
Ben Solo.

Ben folded the note into an envelope, licked it closed and placed his book carefully into a bubble wrap package. He opened his door, peering back and forth into the desert darkness which was just barely penetrated by a rusted street light. He made himself walk casually across the street to Plutt’s Salvage Shop, where he had seen her dash into after their, oh so brief, encounter. He pushed the package through her oversized mail drop box and got ready to do a lot of something he was shit at.

He walked home slowly. And waited.

And waited.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy the Snail is a true story full of searching, love triangles and finally, lots of babies:  
> [Help Find Jeremy A Mate](https://www.bbc.com/news/av/science-environment-37722975/help-find-jeremy-the-lefty-snail-a-mate)  
> [ Jeremy the Lonely Left Twisting Snail Dies but Knows Love Before the End ](https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/10/13/557652159/jeremy-the-lonely-left-twisting-snail-dies-but-knows-love-before-the-end)
> 
> Edith Hamilton’s Mythology is one of my favorite books and I recommend it anyone interested in Greek Mythology (or just great storytelling). The italicized section is directly from the book with the addition of the word ‘mated’. ;) Check it out from your local library, bookstore, etc. But in case you want to know more now:  
> [ Cupid and Psyche: A Summary ](https://www.gradesaver.com/mythology/study-guide/summary-cupid-and-psyche)
> 
> Thank you to Azuwrite for being an amazing beta! Thanks to fettuccine-alfreylo and Spiegatrix_Lestrange for going over my myth world-building with me. And a HUGE thank you to the everyone who left kudos and comments! They are so appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

She shouldn’t open it. She shouldn’t. He was a crazy person. She had googled alphas and omegas and was overcome with hits on Romance novels set in Ancient Rome, Egypt, Ireland. Vikings and Celts and Pharaohs, oh my! Someone should have a talk with this guy about non-consensual roleplay.

Rey paced back and forth from the front hall where the package stared accusingly at her, to the old school desk she used as her laptop’s home. Sighing, she pulled up Wikipedia.

**Alpha** (disambiguation)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Alpha and similar titles may also refer to:

  * Alpha, the first letter in the Classical (Ionic) Greek alphabet
  * Alpha and Omega (Harrison), a 1915 collection of essays, lectures, and letters written by Jane Ellen Harrison
  * An ancient second gender classification referenced in the work of Homer, Ovid and Plutarch. The exact meaning of the terms has been lost to history. Many feel the Catholic church purged most references following the Edict of Milan in 313 AD in which the Emperor Constantine accepted Christianity. Prior to that date, all recorded Pharaohs and Emperors were referred to as Alphas in official correspondence and burial sites. It usually was attached to male authority figures but is also mentioned in connection to female leaders such as Cleopatra and Boudica.



Literature [edit]

  * The Iliad (Homer)
  * The Histories by Herodotus, an ancient Greek Historian
  * Antony and Cleopatra (play) by Shakespeare based on Plutarch’s Parallel Lives
  * Ovid’s Metamorphoses
  * Tying the Knot (self-published novella) by Ash Wright
  * Knotting Hill by Anonymous
  * Forget Me Knot by Ellie Alsterwasser
  * Celtic Knots by Lindsay Dottie



 

Rey clicked on _Celtic Knots_. It seemed… safe. It brought her to an author page decorated with delicate curlicues. An excerpt was available with the rest of the story behind a paywall.

_Someone was following him through the forest._

  
_It was quiet, but there was a scent on the air. It reminded him of the mulled wine his Nutrix would give him on the nights he couldn’t sleep. Honey, wine and saffron were the last things he would expect to smell in the thick, silent forests between Camulodium and Londinum. It could only mean one thing._

  
_Omega._

  
_There was no way to know whether she was one of the Iceni who had decimated his Legion. Only the cavalry had escaped Camulodunum, but Gallus had had to kill his horse a few miles outside the city, the poor thing leg’s shattered in a fall on the churned up mud left by his fellow soldiers._

  
_He was horseless, armed only with his pugio, which was shorter than his forearm. If she had a bow, he was dead._

  
_But if she had a bow why wasn’t he already dead?_

  
_He took a deep breath. He wondered how he smelled to her._

 

Rey slammed her laptop lid closed.

Still… his smell. She sniffed the package cautiously. There was the pleasant scent of pine, but nothing that melted her brain. She picked up the envelope which also smelled like it had been living in Martha Stewart’s Christmas Special. It was nice. She liked it. If it was an overpriced candle she would buy it even though Rey had never bought a candle in her life. But there was something more, something just tickling the back of her throat. She played with the edge of the top flap of the unopened envelope, bringing it closer to her nose. Over the glue there was something rich and primal that hit Rey right in the Id. She inhaled deeply. Her mouth dropped open. She carefully peeled the flap open.

She may have been drooling.

Her tongue darted out. No! She was not going to lick the envelope. He was a crazy person and she was not and she was NOT going to lick his used envelope.

She licked the envelope.

 _Fuck_.

Rey had never tried ecstasy. She had never had anything stronger than a Bud or some skunk weed. If this was what ecstasy was like, she needed to go back in time to the Manchester Rave scene now. She could feel her pupils dilating, her body becoming wet and welcoming.

She put the envelope down. She walked away. She walked back. She paced into the kitchen, stuck her head under the tap and sprayed the coolest water Jakku could provide (which was never that cold) on the back of her neck. Turning the tap off, she let her wet hair drip wildly over her tank top and bare shoulders. She shook herself like a dog, bouncing on the soles of her feet.

She tried to breathe slowly. In... 1, 2, 3. Out… 1, 2, 3. Nope, not working.

In a mad rush that did not leave room for second guessing or even conscious thought, she walked back to her desk, grabbed the envelope, turned the OPEN sign in the window to CLOSED and ran upstairs, envelope clutched to her chest. She was back thirty seconds later, snatching the package, her laptop, batteries from the side drawer of her desk, and making sure the door was locked, twice, before scurrying back up to her bedroom.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Boudica](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boudica)
> 
> [Ancient Roman spiced wine](http://pass-the-garum.blogspot.com/2014/12/conditum-paradoxum-spiced-wine.html)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter but don't worry, chapter five will be more of a meal. Thank you for every comment and kudos. I appreciate them so much. Enjoy!

It had been an excruciating 48 hours. He was pretty sure he was going to need a new punching bag. The only thing that had kept him sane was the arrival of his shelving units. The compact storage was easy to put together on his own. The flat art and folio cabinets were going to be a bit more tricky. He may have to hire someone. His books would be here in another two days and he needed to be ready. The humidity in Jakku was perfect, an average of 46% with a morning high of 55%, but the books needed to be kept cool and protected from the sun and dust. He plugged in his electric thermohygrometer.

Thank god the blackout curtains kept him from easily spying on Plutt’s Salvage Shop. He couldn’t handle the idea of her seeing the constant twitching of the curtains. The humiliation and creep factor kept him from checking more than once an hour. Mostly.

He thought about going to the local bar, but he knew from past experience that alcohol and spiking Omega pheromones were a toxic combination. There was a 50/50 chance that he would pass out hugging a cactus or write absolutely horrible poetry that he would feel the need to share with her at 3 am.

The only pros to the bar plan was 1) Tequila, and 2) He still didn’t know her name.

Ben was staring at the empty shelves when something clattered through his mail slot. It was a small tub of…Vicks Vaporub?

“Put in on under your nose,” a female voice ordered. It was **her**.

“What?” He asked stupidly. He couldn’t smell her, but just knowing only a door separated them made him feel like he had had a date with that tequila.

“Look, it worked when I had to salvage from a house whose owner hadn’t been found for four days in August, it should work for us.”

Ben opened the jar and sniffed. He smeared some above his top lip. It was cool and utterly overpowering.

“Okay, it's on.” He opened the door.

There she was. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun. Three buns? There was a tell tale shine above her lips. She was wearing bike shorts and an oversized tank top. Her expression was skeptical and skittish. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

And he couldn’t smell anything but menthol.

“Here’s your book.” She shoved it at him. “I got a little motor oil on the chapter you marked. Sorry.”

Ben winced, but persevered. “No, no, it was a gift. You can keep it.”

“There’s an inscription on the front. A.S. to my soulmate and angel, P.A. It’s very pretty. You should keep it.”

He opened the book to his grandfather’s looping scrawl. He traced it with his eyes and fingers, trying to ignore how much the return of his gift stung. _Your Alpha is not pleased._

“So….” She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, looking at the floor and then the door. “My productivity has really taken a nosedive this week, so I should-”

“What’s your name?” _D_ _on’t let her leave. Don’t leave._

“Oh.” For the first time she looked a little shy, pinkness blooming on her freckled cheeks. “Rey.”

“Rey.” He repeated, knowing that he sounded like a smitten asshole, and yet, having no control over the situation.

“Yeah, um, Rey Johnson. I run Plutt’s Salvage Shop. I, um, live above the store. Like you.” Her blush deepened and Ben wanted to die.

“Can I contact you again, Rey?”

Ben could swear her breathing sped up.

“Yes.”

“Should I, I mean, can I have your number?”

“No! No, I um, I liked your letter. I mean, I have no idea what to think about the contents, but, um, your handwriting is…nice. So, you should write me. If you want.” She took a deep breath, looked him right in the eyes and said, “Write me, Ben.”

 _Don’t shiver, don’t moan. Don’t be a creep._ “Great.” He already knew that Jakku pipes did not deliver the kind of cold shower he was going to need. He was going to have to order a new punching bag. Or buy some ice.

“Great,” she echoed. She turned decisively on her heels and pushed the door open, the Arizona sun painting her with a halo. “Bye, Ben.”

“Bye, Rey.”

For once, someone leaving didn’t feel like an ending. He may not have been able to smell her, but she left the feeling of new spring rain anyway.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

  
                                                                                                                                                               June 4th, 2019

Dear Rey,

Please allow me to share what I have learned through my years of study. I have been schooled in languages, western literature and history. I was never able to fully discuss my real object of study, of course. The one time I got close to hinting there may be some truth to the stories about Alpha and Omegas I was laughed out of academia. After some lost years, I started my own business. This business. I have always loved rare books and restoring them and hoped that finding the earliest, less edited versions of stories, myths and histories I could find clues to where we came from and why we became so rare.

I believe the erasure of Alphas and Omegas from history and culture began with the growing popularity of the Catholic Church. While the Church strongly supported intercourse for the purpose of procreation, the enthusiasm of AO relations and their close association with Pagan rituals went against the interests of Christianity. Following the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, official references to designation disappear from the history of the Roman Empire.

After this, I believe the AO identity had to become more circumscript. We still existed, but our designations were discussed using euphemisms and classical allusions. Even those references largely disappear after the Puritan movement of the 17th century. The greatest clue to AO pairings in history are hyper fertility and positions of power. I believe AO pairings are overly represented in royalty. Of course, the lack of birth control and over abundance of sources regarding royalty does skew my research. As does my background in western languages and sources only.

Do you have any questions?

Yours,  
Ben Solo

 

Ben,

Do I have questions? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t know what to think about all this. I want to say you are crazy, but then I smell your letters…My head feels clearer away from you and all your stuff, but there have been...changes in me since you arrived in town and I don’t think I can ignore them, but that doesn’t mean I believe all this AO stuff. If it’s true, where did we all go?

I’m not sure if the research I’ve been doing on my own is helping. The internet can be a scary place.

First of all, before all your research, how did you know about all this stuff? You mentioned family members being Alphas, so did you grow up knowing you were going to be an Omega? Does it show up at birth for you? Because I had no clue.

Oh god, I can’t believe I’m honestly asking this.

Rey

 

                                                                                                                                                               June 5th, 2019  
Dear Rey,

What resources have you been using on the internet? If you give me your email address I can send you some reputable links.

No, I did not know I was Omega from birth. I also did not know my mother was an Alpha, my maternal Uncle an Omega, and my mother’s birth parents were an AO pairing. My father was, well, the old fashioned term is Beta. I think my mother hoped I would not have a designation. Therefore, she did not prepare me. Needless to say, puberty was quite a shock for me.

In answer to your question about where we all went, I have a few theories. I believe we were declining for centuries due to our need to hide. The fear of persecution for the “pagan” rituals that were a part of AO courting and mating meant many AO’s never met or had children. We were a small population before Christianity and I believe we got smaller with every generation.

The last straw was Queen Victoria and the Great War.

Forgive me for repeating facts that you probably learned in school. I firmly believe that Queen Victoria was an Alpha and her consort, Prince Albert (who was also her first cousin) an Omega. They had nine children. The oldest girl, also named Victoria, severely edited her mother’s journals, but they still contain clues to her designation. The regularity of their children’s births, the fact that all nine survived childhood, her inconsolable mourning after Albert’s death, can all be explained away of course, but I believe that her children and grandchildren also show signs of being AO.

It may interest you to know that Victoria proposed to Albert.

Queen Victoria, as a monarch in the modern age, had many of her powers constrained by parliament. One area that she could still exert control was in the matchmaking of her children. She and Albert both saw this as a way to spread their ideas of “enlightened” monarchy to the rest of the world. Victoria was overwhelmingly successful with her own children and even more so with her forty grandchildren. They included German Emperor Wilheim II, Queen Sophia of Greece, Crown Princess Margaret of Sweden, Earl Mountbatten of Burma, Empress Alexandra of Russia and of course, your George V. By the end of WWI, the majority of them were dead or deposed. That paired with the number of Alphas killed in the fighting, I believe, got us to our current state.

Yours,  
Ben Solo

 

Ben,

You are drastically overestimating the Jakku educational system.

Wait, all the stories on the net have Alpha males and Omega females in them. How come your family is the opposite?

Rey

 

                                                                                                                                                               June 6th, 2019  
Dear Rey,

My family is...unique. It has proved impossible to study my matralinal side further than my great-grandmother, but in the past three generations the males, with the exception of my Great Uncle Owen, have been Omegas. It makes us rare in a group that is already vanishingly rare. That rareness has made us…enticing to a subsection of people who know about us.

My mother and Grandmother were both Alphas. They were (are, in my mother’s case) leaders who inspired great devotion and fervour.

My family history has also been mudded by the fact that my mother and her twin, my Uncle Luke, were not raised together. They didn’t even know they were related when they first met in their twenties.

Like I said, unique.

What about your family? Are they not AO? Did they never talk to you about it?

Yours, Ben

 

Ben,

Your mom, an Alpha, didn’t know your Uncle, an Omega, was her brother when they first met? Wasn’t that…awkward?

Rey

 

                                                                                                                                                                 June 7th, 2019  
Rey,

We don’t talk about it.

Ben  
P.S. I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer my question about your family.

 

Ben,

Picked up on that, did you? I don’t know much about my parents. They abandoned me here when I was five. I think they were going to Vegas. They said they would be back. They lied.

I waited for them. For a long time. Too long. I finally realized they were never coming back last year. My foster dad was killed. It was messy. It was in the news all over the state. Even the country. It was **very** messy. I was mentioned in nearly every article. Luckily, I wasn’t a “person of interest”. I had been in Winslow, checking out some old Saturn parts. Instead, him taking me in was written about like he was a saint, not a shit who never paid me and barely let me stop working to go to school. So, if my parents were looking for me, it would be as easy as googling “Rey” and “Jakku”. So, obviously they are not looking. Maybe they are dead.

So, that’s my story. Pretty, isn’t it?

Rey

 

Rey’s hand may have been shaking as she slipped her latest letter into his mailbox, quickly scurrying back to Plutt’s. She never talked to anyone about her family, why did she feel compelled to share with this near stranger who may be clinically insane? Was she losing it? Was she that lonely?

She tried to concentrate on cleaning a Ford 150 motor from 1999. Her heart was still beating so hard it could barely go faster when a knock landed solidly on her door.

“Who is it?” she shouted in her best ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice.

“It’s me. Ben. Would you like to go for a walk? I have a menthol stick.” He added hurriedly.

Rey took a deep breath, wiped her hands on a dirty rag, and opened the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as many letters as I had planned. I still have so much AU headcanon! Ask me my opinion on the designations of Charles II and his mistresses! War of the Roses? Elizabeth Woodville is the proto-Omega. The Anarchy? Matilda was obviously an Alpha who never got her due. Seriously, I have so many! But Rey and Ben wanted to talk in person desperately and who am I to deny them?
> 
> My main source for this chapter: [ Queen Victoria’s Matchmaking: The Royal Marriages that Shaped Europe by Deborah Cadbury](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35182350-queen-victoria-s-matchmaking)
> 
> Ps. Feel free to tell me your historical/literary ABO guesses in the comments. Just leave Shakespeare and his works to me. I have plans for them. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count has gone up! Tags have been wrangled! Thanks for commenting, subscribing and kudos-giving. I would love to thank all the wonderful people who shared their historical ABO head canons in the comments. I'm working on replying to them but rest assured I love them all. You are my people!

"Um, hi," Ben said stupidly.

Rey made grabby hands at the menthol stick, holding her breath with comically enlarged cheeks. She smeared a healthy amount under her nose, tearing up immediately.

"It's strong."

She exhaled noisily, "I can feel that." She blinked furiously.

Well, this was off to a great start.

Ben soldiered on, "I was thinking we could walk out of the town a bit. It's supposed to be good night for stargazing."

"You mean, go to an isolated second location with a guy I barely know?" She squinted suspiciously at him. Well, as suspiciously as she could with tears gathering in her eyes.

"Uh..."

She shrugged, "Sure. But I know stick fighting." She went back into her hallway, grabbed said stick, her phone, and locked her door. He stared until she motioned with her very solid looking stick for him to start walking in front of her.

Ben was 99% sure he was in love.

They walked for a while, until the street lamps were small in the distance and the sky was more clear and vast than Ben had ever seen. He was struck dumb for the second time that night.

"City boy?" Rey smiled at him for the first time. She was a red, runny mess and he wanted to kiss her and never stop. _Breathe, Solo_. He had never had a chill moment in his life, but he was determined to start now.

"Yeah. Chandrila."

"Is that near Boston?"

"Outside DC. All politics, all the time. Beautiful though. Lots of water. Keeps it a lot cooler and fresher than most of Virginia."

"Sounds lovely," she said wistfully, toeing the Jakku sand.

 _I could take you there. I would take you anywhere._ "Jakku has it's charms too," he cleared his throat and hoped she couldn't see his red cheeks in the moonlight. "The stars are awe-inspiring."

Rey wasn't looking at him, thankfully. She tapped a large rock with her stick. Waited. Tapped again and then hopped up on the rock. "Got to be careful in the desert," she said, answering his questioning look. She folded her long legs under herself gracefully. Ben tried desperately not to look. He did not succeed. Bike shorts were his new nemesis. Uncle Luke would be very happy to know he had been downgraded.

"-here?"

"Sorry?"

“I said, why did you move here?”

Ben rubbed his lips together. God, he wanted to lie. But he hated liars. And he really wanted to be honest with Rey. He felt compelled to spill every messy detail at her feet.

“To get away from my old boss. And my family.” He saw her stiffen and couldn’t blame her.

He could see her struggling to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Your boss was so bad you had to move across the country?”

Ben wanted to sigh in relief, though the idea that Snoke was the safer topic was laughable.

“Yes. And that dangerous.”

Rey barely reacted. Just looked at him silently and nodded. He had thought she wouldn’t be too shocked. If someone had ever come to Jakku without an outstanding warrant or debt, they would have had to still be in diapers.

“I’ve been interested in calligraphy and restoration for a long time. I used to live with my uncle and he wasn’t a big believer in traditional schooling. Or TV. Or indoor plumbing.” Rey snorted sympathetically. “He had some texts, ancient texts. So old, I couldn’t believe how old they might be. I became obsessed with trying to date and restore them. Whatever Luke couldn’t teach me, I taught myself. Without access to some pretty rare and expensive tech I couldn’t be exact, but I was able to narrow it down to 2nd century CE. It was the find of the century. The millenium. I thought it was written just after Titus Flavius Josephus’ _Antiquities of the Jews_ , but it’s in Hebrew not Greek. It was world shattering.”

“Translation for the public school student?”

“It was written before the Edict of 313. Before Alphas and Omegas were erased from history by the Catholic Church. Roman Catholicism was still in its infancy.”

Rey whistled, “As in, like, just after Jesus time?

“I’m Jewish, but yes, the century after the probable historical figure Jesus of Nazareth lived.” 

“How did he get books like that? Shouldn’t they be in a museum?”

Ben had to take a moment. 100%. He was 100% in love.

“Um, yes. Yes, they should have been. Like I said, they were written in Hebrew. Some of the earliest texts I have even heard of, much less seen. They explained how AO practices fit into Torah she b’al pei. The oral tradition of laws passed down from Moses,” he hastened to explain, “but Luke didn't want them in a museum. He thought we were better off hidden. Better off dying out,” he finished bitterly, staring at the ground.

“So, you stole them. And sold them?”

Ben looked up in shock. Rey made a face. “You grew up off the grid and now you can buy rare books and have them shipped to Jakku in what was practically a Brinks truck? I'm not stupid, Ben.”

“I didn't want to sell them! I wanted to have the resources to study them properly and then share my findings with the world. I wanted to change things, Rey.”

Rey stayed silent. Waiting for the but.

He sighed, “But I trusted the wrong person. Snoke. I had been chatting with him for a while. We didn't have the internet, but I would use the library’s when I went to town. Even Luke couldn't disapprove of the library,” he scoffed, “He said he understood. That he wanted the world to know about Alphas and Omegas too. He said he could help.”

“And?”

“I knew it was a mistake from the moment I scented him. He smelled like a goddamn tire fire. But it was too late. I had burned my bridges with Luke, with my mother. My father…he honestly couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Snoke sold the books to a private bidder and I became his own private forger for the next six years.”

Ben squinted into a non existent light. This was the moment, this was the moment she walked away.

“Wow. Your crime is really high class, Ben.”

“Wait, what?”

“Seriously. Here we get meth, petty theft, robbery. The only forging I’ve ever hear of was on pink slips.”

Ben was speechless.

Rey hopped off the rock, looking as natural as any desert creature. She was obviously relishing his reaction.

“I get that you want to be my ‘teacher’ Ben, but I’ve been scratching off VIN numbers since I was five. It’s going to take more than rich guys ripping off other rich guys to scare me.” She started walking purposely back into town. “Now, I’ve got more questions, but it’s getting late and I have to go to Winslow tomorrow morning. How about you write me tomorrow about how knotting works and we’ll chat later. Okay?” No answer. “Great.”

Ben felt like he had just been hit on the head by a 2 by 4. Strangely, he liked the feeling.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Gifts of the Jews: Desert Nomads Changed the World With The World by Thomas Cahill](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27202.The_Gifts_of_the_Jews)
> 
> [Titus Flavius Jospehus, a Jewish Historian. ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Josephus)
> 
> [An Incomplete Education](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/126041.An_Incomplete_Education) aka the book that has made me sound smarter than I really am since 1999. I have the 1995 version so it’s um, a bit dated but it’s my forever book. There is an updated 2006 edition which is what I am linking to.


	7. Chapter 7

Rey was able to keep up the cool and breezy charade until she closed the shop’s door behind her. Knotting? She asked about knotting?!? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to hold the guy’s hand yet and now she wants to know if sitting on his dick for an hour is a option?!? She blamed the _Tying the Knot_ novel. It was an ABO Regency era story with heavy Pride and Prejudice vibes. It was also the hottest thing she had every read.

Rey had messed around with guys a couple times, more out of curiosity than desire. None of those fumbles in back seats could compare to the rush of desire she felt when Bess and Lindsay had delicately kissed the scent glands on each other’s neck as they wed. Later the tenderness made room for soul-crushing need. They called each ‘sweetheart’ and ‘beloved’ as they rutted on the four poster bed, eventually having to move to a nest of blankets on the floor. Their Georgian values apparently allowed you to bite your wife’s shoulder and suck on the “flower of her sex”, but having the servants hearing your bed rattle was going too far. According the author, knots gave out female orgasms like coins from a broken slot machine. Rey had never masturbated so much in her life. She’d have to go to Costco for more batteries. Even now, none of his scent lingered, but the way he had looked at her did. Her! Like she was a goddess in a grease stained tank top… Rey rubbed her thighs together, resting her back on the door, hand slowly trailing upwards towards her breasts…

No! She was getting distracted! She need to focus on what Ben had told her about his past. Was this Snoke guy the kind to go looking for Ben or would he cuts his losses?

The type of rich and confident Snoke must be to run a long con like the one he ran on Ben… It was terrifying, and she had the shop to consider. Her ownership wasn’t exactly clear cut. People had just kinda assumed Plutt left the place to her. She had wanted to laugh, he had fed her one meal out of three, but survival was at the core of Rey, and that drive told her to stay quiet. Possession is nine/tenths of the law, right? But if anyone went poking around, say someone who wanted to use her to get to Ben… It would all unravel quicker than you can say ‘no papers’. The shop was all she had.

She should stay away from him, burn his letters, pull the shades. He would get the message. For all his weirdness he had always been respectful of her boundaries.

Fuck it all, she didn’t _want_ to stay away from him. She liked the way he looked at her. She liked his overly formal letters and his deeply nerdy brain. She liked his shoulders. And his thighs. A lot.

Well, nothing that more masturbation couldn’t help her ignore. Off to bed.

_____

June 9th, 2019

Dear Rey,

Thank you for agreeing to go on a walk with me. I enjoyed our time together. I hope my disclosures did not cause you to regret it.

According to select myths, Aphrodite had another son, Priapus. Don’t google him, I beg of you. Hera cursed him with impotence in the womb to get back at Aphrodite, but he is always depicted with a, well, massive erection. A comically huge one. Despite this ‘impotence’, he is a minor god of fertility, livestock, fruit plants and gardens. He is the embodiment of ‘be fruitful and multiply’. My theory is that impotence is a later translation error. She actually made him a male Omega. The Romans really liked their gender roles and reversals of the more common Male Alpha/Female Omega are rare. They usually, like the story of Eros and Psyche, involve transgression and punishment, though Psyche’s story has something rarer still: a happy ending.

Priapus gave his name to the medical condition Priapism. Again, please don’t google it. It is a condition of the male genitalia where a man sustains an erection for over four hours.

It happened to me when I was 17. It’s like a second puberty. Only more painful and involving a lot more ice packs.

I theorize that this condition is the only way a male Omega could keep up with a female Alpha in rut. There is even a poem about it. Translated from the Latin by Richard Burton:

 _Hither, Quirites! (here what limit is?)_  
_Either my member seminal lop ye off_  
_Which thro' the livelong nights for aye fatigue_  
_The neighbour-women rutting endlessly,_  
_Lewder than sparrows in the lusty spring;_  
_Or I shall burst and ye Priapus lose._  
_How I be futtered-out yourselves espy_  
_Used-up, bejaded, lean and pallid grown,_  
_Who erstwhile ruddy, in my doughtiness wont_  
_To kill with poking thieves however doughty._  
_My side has failed me and poor I with cough_  
_The perilous spittle ever must outspew._

Or

Hither! ye Romans' Either lop off my seminal member, which the neighbouring women, ever itching with desire, exhaust the whole night through[1]--more lecherous than sparrows in the spring[2]--or I shall be ruptured (for where is the limit of their lust?), nor will ye have a Priapus. Ye see that I am spent with venery, jaded, thin and pale, who once, ruddy and vigorous, used to thrust through the stoutest thieves. My strength has faded me; and, wretched with coughing, I spit out noxious saliva.

Romantic, I know.

Ben

 _____

Ben,

I googled it. I googled it all. You must have known I would. I’m only human!

I saw things I can never unsee.

Deeply traumatized,

Rey  
Ps. That still doesn’t explain knotting.

_____ 

June 10th, 2019

Rey,

Please give me your email address. I can direct you to safer edges of the the internet. Where are you reading about knotting?

The truth is, I’m not sure how knotting occurs with a male Omega and female Alpha. My grandparents died before I was born, my mother married an Beta and my Uncle Luke is not interested in romantic relationships.

All I know comes from romance novels, but for all I know the authors have never met an Alpha or Omega in their lives.

I am sorry I cannot answer your question.

Yours,  
Ben  
Postscript: Is that where you’ve been getting your information? Romance novels?

 _____

Ben,

I plead the fifth. Want to come with me to Winslow tomorrow?”

R.

 _____

June 10th, 2019

Rey,

Yes.

Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Priapism, a medical condition. ](https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/priapism/symptoms-causes/syc-20352005)  
> Ben would have the Non-ischemic kind, so uncomfortable but it would not cause permanent injury. The More You Know...
> 
> The Priapeia (poetry) [ Poem 25](http://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/priap/priapeia.htm)


	8. Chapter 8

It was 8:30 when Ben heard the honk. He startled like a goddamn cat despite being insanely and completely awake since 5 am.

Rey was waiting in the cab of a large truck. It looked like a Toyota pickup from the 80s. Rey had obviously done what she could, it was as shiny as a Mercedes just driven off the lot, but the tires were almost bald and nothing could stop the rusting around the wheel wells.

Her window was rolled down and she tossed the Vicks at him, which he caught with a minimum of fumbling. Fuck, she made him feel 17 again. He couldn’t see her bottom half, but he just knew she’d be wearing bike shorts or cut off jeans or something similarly devastating.

“Hop in,” she nodded her head towards the passenger seat. She was taller than him, sitting in the extended cab. It did things to him. He attempted to swallow.

He took a large step into the cab. “You didn’t buy domestic? Isn’t that treason?”

“First, I’m British. Second, everyone else around here believes it’s Ford or nothing, so I got my baby cheap.” She patted the wheel with a look of love. Ben looked away. She flicked on the air conditioner and rolled up her window. He did the same.

She pulled out on to Main Street and immediately began talking, “So, Winslow is about a 45 mile drive south of Jakku. They got famous in an Eagles song. You know the one?” He shook his head. “You know it!” She sang in a sweet, slightly husky voice, “Well, I'm a runnin' down the road tryin' to loosen my load, Got a world of trouble on my mind, Lookin' for a lover…” she trailed off.

He shrugged, embarrassed. “The only radio at Luke’s was a CB.”

“Huh. I never thought I’d meet someone more pop culture clueless than me. It’s kinda nice. The kids at school were always talking about some new movie or game. Meanwhile, I was trying to figure out the best places to strip copper.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Yep. There was this one dog, Teedo, he had these huge fucking paws. He took a swipe at me when I was trying to get over the factory’s fence. I have these three perfect lines right on my a-” she cut herself off. Ben tried to unclench his jaw and his fists. He didn’t know if he wanted to beat someone or beg Rey to show him her every scar. He settled for silence.

“Anyway, Winslow became a retirement community for a bunch of Eagles superfans, and you know what Eagles fans like?” She waited.

“Beer? The American Flag?”

She snorted. “I’m sure. But they also like classic cars and have no idea how to take care of them in the desert.”

“Hence you.”

“Yep. I’ve got some regulars now. Guys with too much time and too much money. They like being close to Vegas, but not so close that they can’t pretend to be country folks. Two and a half hours from the Grand Canyon if they want to impress the grandkids. Even closer to the Petrified Forest.”

“Don’t forget the big crater.” Ben had no idea why Rey was playing tour guide. Was she nervous? It was adorable.

“Can’t forget the big freakin’ crater,” she agreed. “There is also a Death Cave.”

“A what?”

“An Apache Death Cave. It was attacked in revenge for their attack on a Navajo camp back in 1878. It’s really sad, actually. People say it’s haunted. Some asshole named Henry “Two Guns” Miller did tours and sold Apache remains. I know curses are white people bullshit, but he was mauled by a mountain lion. Twice,” she sounded appreciative and bloodthirsty, “And bit by Gila monster, which is a real thing here. Then there was a fire. So, yay bullshit curses,” Rey trailed off.

They settled into an uneasy silence that Ben had no idea how to break. He was so much better at writing.

“So, what kind of books do you like to read?” Ben wasn’t fishing about possible AO erotica. He wasn’t.

Rey blushed, staring hard at the empty road in front of her. “Well, Jakku doesn’t have a library, but there is a bookmobile that comes by every two weeks. If I was lucky and Plutt was out, I could get a book or two. The librarian was weird, but nice. When CDs became a thing she gave me the cassessttes of audiobooks and plays they were going to toss.”

“Like what?” Ben leaned towards her, despite telling himself not to loom.

“Uh, the British stuff mostly. Because of, uh, my accent. Shakespeare. P.G. Wodehouse. The Brontes.”

“Which is your favorite?”

“Jane Eyre. Cliche, I know.”

“Why?”

Rey gave him an unimpressed look. “Unwanted child? Full of anger? Gets an inheritance and a family? Man, I hated Jane and loved her at the same time. Rochester was an asshole, but she called him out on it which made it a bit better.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Have you ever been married?”

Ben almost choked, trying to get the word out faster than tongue and teeth could keep up. “No! No.” He took a deep breath. Shit, past the the menthol he could get the slightest hint of new rain. It must be the car itself, drenched in her scent. He would re-apply as soon as they stopped. “No,” he finished.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” Rey bit her pretty pink lower lip and Ben wanted to groan. He needed to get out of the car soon. “That poem you sent me. It mentioned the guy, um… seeing to multiple females. Are we not monogamous?”

At this, Ben wanted to shout, ‘Yes! Completely! Never touch another, completely, deliriously happy in monogamy,’ but he tried not to add liar to all his other sins.

“I think we can be. Just like everyone else. It depends.”

“On?”

To Ben’s great shame he found Leia Organa’s words coming out of his mouth. “We are still people, Rey. We have free will. We fall in love, we fall out of love. We chose poorly or well. Our designations, they are a part of us, but not everything.”

“Oh.” Rey took her eyes off the road to stare at him carefully. “That’s a relief.”

On his grandmother’s grave he tried not to wince, but he couldn’t help it.

“No, not like that. You’re fine. I mean, you obviously are seriously into this teacher/student thing, but you are actually kinda cool. I like your stories.” She signaled left, going on to Route 66. “I just don’t like the idea of anything controlling me, not even my own hormones.”

“I get that.” And for the first time in his life, Ben did. He realized he didn’t want Rey to pick him because he smelled good. Or because they were biologically compatible. Or because Ben had been looking for her since he knew he had an Alpha to look for.

He wanted Rey to pick him because she wanted to. Because she wanted him.

He cleared his throat, “This road is one of the reasons I picked Jakku.”

“Really?” Rey perked up. “How much of 66 did you take?

“All the way to Jakku. I flew from DC to Chicago. Had a steak. Bought a car. Drove almost ten hours a day.”

Rey whistle appreciatively. “I’ve always wanted to drive the whole route. All the way to the ocean. I’ve never seen the ocean. Or, I guess I must have once, but I don’t remember it. Where did you stop?”

“Oh, a few motels. Had some barbeque in Texas.”

“What?!?” Rey pulled off the road, parking in the driveway of an expensive looking ranch home. “You didn’t go to any of the attractions? The giant Soda bottle? The World’s largest Rocking Chair? The Cadillac Ranch? Tell me you stopped at the Cadillac Ranch.”

Ben couldn’t help but grin. “I did not.”

She glared at him, chin out. “It’s official. You are no fun.” She stuck her tongue out at him and turned off the car.

He snorted. She flipped her ponytail, a hint of her scent hitting him like a sledgehammer. He was going to need to stay in the car for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat, waiting as Rey pulled her tool box out of the back.

“What a gentleman,” she teased. He made some sort of face at her, hunched over his lap slightly. It was not a relaxed looking posture.

She rolled her eyes and slammed the truck bed door. She walked purposefully to the Ranch’s front door, her ass in her cut offs doing nothing to help his situation.

“It’s the World’s second largest rocking chair, for your information!”

She flipped him the bird, quickly putting on a wide smile when a sixty-five plus man opened the front door.

Ben had never been this happy.

 

* * *

 

The next morning he woke up with a fever.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Route 66 Map](https://www.tripsavvy.com/maps-of-route-66-road-trip-3266159)
> 
> [The World’s (Second) Largest Rocking Chair](https://www.theroute-66.com/fanning.html#chair)
> 
> "[Winslow Arizona](https://independenttravelcats.com/2-week-route-66-itinerary-ultimate-american-road-trip/#Main-Route-66-Attractions-9) is probably best known to the world through the lyrics of a 1972 Eagles song “Take it Easy” which goes “Well, I’m a standin’ on a corner in Winslow, Arizona / Such a fine sight to see / It’s a girl, my Lord, in a flat-bed Ford / Slowin’ down to take a look at me”. There a statue, mural, and sign at Kinsley & Second Streets as well as numerous souvenirs and references throughout the city. "
> 
> [Cadillac Ranch](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cadillac_Ranch)


	9. Chapter 9

There was no letter waiting for Rey when she woke up. Huh. 

There was no rule that there had to be a letter for her every morning. There just had been. Every morning. For nine days.

A girl could get used to something in nine days. 

She had thought yesterday had gone well. Really well. Ben was sweaty and glowering, but Rey attributed that to the desert sun and meeting new people. Ben was obviously not a people person. Neither was Rey, really, but she could fake it for a good payday. He had been her muscle and assistant, handing her whatever tool she needed as she tinkered under one overpowered machine after another. God bless retirees’ bucket lists. There were some beautiful cars in Winslow.

He had looked twitchy on the ride back to Jakku. Maybe he hadn’t enjoyed the day as much as Rey had. Maybe he needed a break from her.

That was okay. A guy could take a day off.

She poured her cereal in a bowl, pulled out the milk and somehow lost the plot when it came to combining the two.

No. No! It wasn’t okay. He couldn’t upend her whole world, her whole concept of self, and then take a day off! Rey wanted her damn letter. She put the milk back into the fridge, closing the door with way more force than necessary. Her sleep clothes were only a few holes away from being as nice as her day wear, so she stuffed her feet into the closest pair of shoes, pulled her bed hair into a messy ponytail and stomped out of the door. 

Knock, knock, KNOCK!

She heard quiet movement behind Ben’s store door. 

He opened the door a crack. His face was red and clammy, his hair sticking to his head, ears peaking out. He looked awful.

He smelled incredible.

Maybe this had been a bad idea. Rey jumped back from the door, pinching her nose closed tightly. 

“Vicks! Vicks!”

“Huh?” Ben was staring and swaying on his feet slightly towards her. She kicked the door shut with her foot. She heard an “oomph!”.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll be right back,” she shouted through the door.

Rey broke land records running back to her shop and smearing herself with the vaporub. She wondered if Ben would notice if she just rubbed one out really quickly before returning. It would be really quick. 

That would probably be rude. Also, everything in her body that wasn’t shouting for immediate release was raging at her to get back to him.

She ran back, the menthol cream held in her outstretched hand like a crucifix before a vampire. She pushed it through his mail slot. 

“I’m not sure that is going to help,” came his muffled reply. 

“Just do it, Ben.” Wait, was that a groan?

Slowly, the door opened again.

His top lip was shiny with cream, so was his nose. And chest. Naked, shiny chest. She was sure he had been wearing a shirt the first time he opened the door.

He was right, this was NOT helping as much as usual.

“Are you going into heat?” She squeaked out.

“Heat implies estrus and I don’t have eggs, so therefore, I can’t go into heat,” Ben’s teacher voice sounded decidedly unsteady. Rey let her silence and totally unimpressed look speak for her. He sighed. “Yes, I’m going into heat.”

Fuck. “Can you put a shirt on or something?” 

Hurt, and then anger, flashed across his expressive face. “Can you put on a bra?”

Rey looked down. Her shirt was a lot more see through in the bright daylight then it had been in her kitchen. She blushed and immediately got defensive.

“Why? Is it distracting?” She bit out, straightening her shoulders.

“Yes, very,” he breathed out, not bothering to disguise his hungry stare. Rey felt her nipples tighten and had to use iron control to keep from rubbing her thighs together. God, she wanted to lick his arms. 

Ben was keeping his lower body hidden by the door, awkwardly twisting his upper body. It made the muscles in his side show in deep relief. Rey’s desires moved from licking to wanting to bite.

God, she hadn’t even asked about mating bites. Was that a thing or just some romance author’s fantasy? She wasn’t ready for this. 

Ben took a deep breath. He held out his hand. “Are you coming in?” His eyes were so dark. His face was so open.

Rey hesitated. He pressed his lips together. His hand didn’t falter. “Please.”

Rey wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. “Ben, we haven’t even known each other for two weeks… and all this Alpha and Omega stuff… It’s a lot, you know?” She wanted to plead with him to understand. She wasn’t saying no. She just needed more time. She needed to think without his amazing smell cutting through the menthol. Without his bare chest and beautiful eyes. He was overwhelming, like she imagined the ocean’s waves.

And Rey had never learned how to swim.

He nodded. Once, twice. He stared at his outstretched arm before letting it drop to his side. Then slowly, gently, he closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst needs no footnotes. Sob.


	10. Chapter 10

Ben had lied. He hadn’t meant to. He didn’t even realize he was lying, but he had. All that Leia approved talk about free will and choices... he hadn’t really believed it.

He hadn’t really believed she would say no.

A truly toxic mix of rejection, pain and deep, deep disappointment was churning in his gut. He had to get away. He couldn’t know that Rey was only across the street. He had more than his fair share of masochism, but going through his heat, alone, with her just steps away? He couldn't do that.

He didn’t trust himself. He knew, he knew he would beg. He would howl. He would destroy any feelings she might harbour for him, even if they were just friendship.

Fuck. He had to leave.

Where to go with no notice, half a brain and an erection that would not quit?

Well, when put that way, there was only one choice.

Ben threw a few clothes (and all his ice packs) in a gym bag, grabbed his wallet and keys and exited. Thirty seconds later he was back, gently pulling out Rey’s letters from the top right hand drawer of his desk. They were carefully stacked and tied together with twine because he was a goddamn fool. There was another small pile of papers underneath. He traced the embossed lettering on the top.

Well, why not do one more idiotic, painful, love-sick action? He scribbled out a quick note and taped it to his door with her name on it. Rey.

_Rey._

He got in his car and got the hell out of Jakku.

 

* * *

 

 Rey paced back and forth in her tiny kitchen. What the fuck was she doing? She had no idea. Yes, it hadn’t even been two weeks since he moved in. Yes, she was coming to terms with a frickin’ second gender. But it explained so much in her life. Why sex never seems to be all it was cracked up to be, why when someone gave her a bad vibe she was always right about them, why she always felt different. So lonely.

He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. And not just for his heat. Rey might be confused, but she could see that everything about Ben Solo screamed permanent.

Maybe that was the problem. Rey had never had permanent before.

Ah, fuck.

And he needed her. God, that made the heat pool in her core. He needed her and she could give him what he wanted. Just her, Rey, the nobody. She could bring 6’3 feet of man to his knees and he would thank her for it. He might even _beg_.

Why the fuck did she say no? She had wanted to climb him like a tree since the moment they met. Maybe the relationship stuff, the truly terrifying permanent stuff wouldn't be so scary if she could just put her hands on him and smell his neck. Maybe even, god forbid, cuddle. She couldn't believe it, with her blood so hot, but the image of holding him was the one that finally broke her internal stalemate.

She barrelled out her front door for the second time that day. She drew up short when she saw the letter. Her letter, taped to his door. It said,

 

Rey,

There are some gifts for you on top of my desk. Take them or leave them, it is up to you. I may have presumed too much, but I think you may find them helpful. The key is under the gift you gave me.

Yours,  
Ben

 

Scribbled underneath in the messiest writing she had ever seen from him:

 

Postscript. I am going to be at the Las Vegas Four Seasons. Room 3904.

 

Then there were three or four more words heavily scratched out. She couldn’t decipher them.

Was it physically possible for Rey’s head to explode? Was that a new Alpha trick? She had left him alone for 10 minutes, maybe less! She was going to wring his neck. After approximately a hundred orgasms. Possibly during, if he was into that.

What gift had she given him? She couldn’t remember offering him as much as a stick of gum. She looked around the front door, found nothing and went to the back. By a punching bag and a picnic table, which had seen better decades, was a tiny cactus in a meticulously repaired pot. You sentimental fucker, she thought and sniffed a bit.

She picked up the pot, which had a key taped to the bottom. She let herself in and found the papers he had left her.

Well, it looks like she has another road trip to go on. With one very important stop first. Rey helped herself to Ben’s computer. An hour and ten minutes to Flagstaff. Then four hours to Las Vegas.

Rey could make it in three.

She grabbed the papers, got her keys and wallet and got the fuck out of Jakku.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Ben was surrounded by ice packs and empty gatorade bottles when he heard the knock on the door.

“No housekeeping!” He shouted

“Benjamin - whatever your middle name is - Solo, you open this door right this minute or I swear to God-”

He flung the door open to see a red faced, sweaty Rey. She was still in her sleep clothes, with a bag slung over her shoulder and a pile of papers in her hand.

“A passport? American AND British citizenship? A British birth certificate and the deed to the shop? You fucker!”

He was past words. She was here. She was as angry as an alley cat, but she was here. His hand reached out without consulting his brain. He trailed one finger down her cheek to her neck, then traced her collarbone lightly. She was here.

“Fuck it.” Rey pushed him inside the room, slammed the door shut and pulled off her top. She still wasn’t wearing a bra. A few of Ben’s rapidly dwindling brain cells died a happy death. She kept pushing him through the suite’s living room to the bed. “We are talking about this later,” she stated as she shoved him on to the king bed and climbed on top of his lap.

Ben nodded and kept nodding. It seemed the thing to do when the best thing to ever happen to him was squirming in his lap.

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts. “Do I have to do everything?” He stared at his large hands, completely covering her gorgeous tits and kept nodding. She barked out a laugh. “I can work with that.” She moved his thumbs until they were rubbing back and forth against her nipples and sighed happily. “Pinch,” she ordered and he groaned, complying.

“Wait!” She stood up and he moaned. “Just a second!” She grabbed her bag from where she flung it and emptied out the contents on the bed. Ben had never seen so much birth control in his life.

Condoms, spermicide, a box that said FC2. Pamphlets. So many pamphlets.

“I got the implant too,” she said, rubbing her left upper arm. “But it doesn’t start working for another week. You are paying half by the way.” She grabbed the FC2 box. “This may take a while. I’ve never used a female condom before. I may have to watch a video. Where is your phone?” He pointed to the bedside table wordlessly. “Don’t move,” she ordered and he wanted to spontaneously combust. He may have stopped breathing. Rey paused, smiled a little pleased smile, bent over and licked him from shoulder to ear, making the hottest, most satisfied purring noise he had ever heard. “Yes, just like that,” she murmured. “Good boy.”

Ben came.

“Oh.” Rey inhaled contentedly as he shuddered. “Fuck. When can you go again?” She said wonderingly, cupping him through his damp boxers. He hissed. She squeezed. He moaned. He hadn’t softened at all. “That soon, huh? God, I’m never letting you out of this bed.” She looked around the suite, as if seeing it for the first time. “Next time, get one with posts.”

Time was moving strangely for Ben. The smell of her was all over him and he was content to wait forever. He had never felt so light.

Rey came out of the bathroom. He propped himself up on one elbow to look at her. She was fully nude now and looking embarrassed for the first time. “Okay, this feels strange.” She had a circular disc attached to what looked like plastic wrap dangling between her legs. “I was thinking that this would be better in case you did have a knot, though I have seen memes where people get their whole heads into XL condoms, so maybe we should try those-”

“Rey. Rey. Fuck me. Please.” Rey blushed prettily. Ben pulled down his boxers and laid back against the sheets, closing his eyes tightly. He had been so calm, but now that she was in the room again, he was vibrating with need. “Please.”

Rey’s confidence must have returned since soon she was rubbing herself against his body, nipples hard against his chest. “Look at you,” she cooed. “You look so good. You look like you’re mine.”

“Oh god.” Ben bucked up against her.

“Kiss me.” Ben craned his neck up, trying to reach her lips, so overwhelmed that he didn’t realize she was positioning him within the internal condom. Their lips met and she sheathed him completely within her at the same time.

He shouted his pleasure into her mouth, and she broke away giggling. “Yeah, turns out ruts mean foreplay is totally unnecessary. Or maybe it was the three times I had to get off the road to finger myself. You better not make me drive during one of these things ever again.”

Ben had no idea how she was talking, much less making full sentences, but he tried his best, “I won’t. I, I, won’t, I promise,” he gasped out.

She rode him with total control, pushing his legs down by hooking her ankles over his knees when he tried to speed up. “No, no, no, you just get to take it, Ben. You are mine now. I found you. I knocked on your door. I scented you. I claimed you. You are mine.” Rey no longer looked in control. She looked feral. She planted her arms on either side of his head, looking at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes as she sped up, chasing her orgasm. “You do not get to leave me. Never again. You got that?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” He chanted. He whipped his head back and forth against the sheets. He closed his eyes. Nothing could feel this good. How was he going to survive this? “I’ll never leave. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

Rey felt the dark desire to climb off him. Ignore the climax rushing towards both of them and make him pay for leaving her. _Her!_ His Alpha! He should have been scratching at her door, waiting for her to gift him with her rut. Her anger boiled up as the pleasure spiked. He thought to deny her this? He went to this unfamiliar place of strong smells where another Alpha could have found him and used him for their pleasure? She bared her teeth at him and growled. A shudder ran through his whole body. “Please, Rey, please.” He stopped thrusting and submitted to her completely, resting the side of his face against the sweat-dampened sheet. His neck was long and pale and dotted with moles. She continued to roll her hips against him, but his only movements were the twitching of his cock inside her and his fast breathing. She wrapped a hand around his neck softly and even his breathing slowed. He looked so peaceful. All the anger left Rey in a rush. He was hers. He _wanted_ to be. She could feel in the utter surrender in his body that nothing else mattered to him. She could leave and he would still be hers. She could leave him shaking and wanting and he would still be hers.

The relief was incredible. For the first time since learning about this whole insane mess, Rey was thankful for her designation. It felt like a gift. He wanted someone to belong to and she wanted someone who would never leave. A whole future opened up for her where neither of them ever, ever had to be alone again.

After that revelation an orgasm should have felt well, anticlimactic. Her body shouted otherwise. Rey felt it thunder towards her, her cunt clenching almost painfully. She grabbed his hands, placing one above where they joined and the other on her chest. His hands were so large he could almost touch both of her nipples at the same time. He found her clit and rubbed. Rey clutched his face, kissing him fiercely. She wanted all the sensations he could give her. She wanted everything now.

Ben couldn’t manage to kiss her back. His fingers on her clit were uncoordinated and torturously good. He would forget to move for a second, the next he would pinch or rub before losing himself again. It kept Rey of the edge of coming and she loved it. “Fuck,” she swore and he panted into her mouth, moaning. Everytime her cunt clenched, she could feel him swell and it was too much and not enough and she was going to keep him forever. She whispered this all to him as he struggled to breathe through the pleasure-pain. It was his knot. She was causing it, forcing his body to give her what she needed and she wanted to cry in gratitude.

They came almost simultaneously, her orgasm triggering his, his knot filling her perfectly, so that it seemed to last forever. She wanted to bite him so bad, but the last little vestige of Rey said no, she wasn’t ready for that, so she grabbed his hand and put two of his gorgeous thick fingers in her mouth to suckle until the urge quieted. Finally, she could lay down on his wide chest and just enjoy being so close, feeling his chest rise and lower.

They lay there in silence. Every so often pleasure rippled through the both of them as his knot pulsed. Goosebumps rose on Rey’s naked back as Las Vegas’ artic air conditioning hummed on, but she didn’t mind. He was so warm.

Finally, his knot deflated enough for him to slip out of her. She was going to have to figure out how to get the female condom back out of her which promised to ruin the afterglow completely, so she ignored it for now as she let herself snuggle into his side. He lazily stroked her back.

“So,” he said, “do you want to get dinner or something? Take in a show?”

She laughed and laughed. Even he gave a chuckle. She rested her chin on his chest and looked into his warm brown eyes. He looked happy. “How about room service and a bath?”

He smiled. “In a minute?” he asked.

She lay her head back down, inhaling the scent of the both of them. Rain and pine trees, sex and warm sheets. “In a minute,” she agreed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue left. Hope you enjoyed the ride!
> 
> All birth control information comes from the amazing [Planned Parenthood](https://www.plannedparenthood.org) website. Here is the video Rey watched on the [internal or female condom.](https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/birth-control/internal-condom)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a mention of children in this chapter and fears about being a parent. If you'd rather skip that it starts after "make him feel safe" and ends before "Some mornings it was only the strength..."

**Epilogue**

**Two months later**

Rey doesn’t let Ben move in right away. She thought they should date and get to know each other better first. Ben resisted a smartass remark about how well he knew her after four days of being locked together in Vegas. Their dating life consisted mostly of estate sales, where Ben would search through the books for hidden gems while Rey scared people with her ‘bartering’ skills. Ben would humour her even if he had known would marry her, mate her, _whatever_ with her, the first day they met. It wasn’t too difficult when she pouted and pulled him back into bed each morning when he tried to leave.

Still, the clothing situation was getting kind of ridiculous.

“Rey, Rey, _Rey_!” He tried to avoid her determined hands. “I have a Skype call in 15 minutes and I’m sure the buyer would prefer I had a shirt on.”

“Now, that’s just ridiculous.” She eyed him appreciatively.

“I think Father Harvey would disagree.” He almost fell out of Rey’s bed trying to get his boxers on. She ignored his flailing and snuggled deeper into the covers. When he moved in, this bed would be the first thing to go. It was waaaay too tiny and though Ben loved nothing more than curling up with Rey, even his touch-starved body had to give in to the power of the Arizona sun occasionally. It also bunched in strange places. It didn’t feel like springs or even the dips and shapes made from long term use. Whatever it was, it was uncomfortable.

He cast around for his shirt. He knew he had worn one here. Maybe it was in the kitchen? Or the front hall? Rey seemed to have an aversion to his clothes and pulled them off him as soon as she could, ignoring any packages he may be holding or conversations he was trying to have. Mid-sentence, she would half-suffocate him with his own t-shirt in her haste. What’s more is he could never find the damn shirts again. She wasn’t wearing them. He was smart enough to demand quid pro quo nudity, so where did the damn things go?

Rey was pretending to sleep. He knew she was pretending because moving with stealth was impossible for his caffeine-free self and also because she wasn’t snoring.

“Rey, do you know where my shirt is?” She made an adorable and patently false sleepy mumble and rolled over to face the wall.

He sighed and resigned himself for another half-naked walk of shame across the street. He did have his keys, unlike last time.

Feeling like all of Jakku’s retirees were staring at him through their curtains, Ben half ran to his store, bounding up the steps to his second floor apartment. It was insanely clean. Partly because he liked it that way and partly because he didn’t live here anymore, no matter what Rey said. He opened the middle drawer of his dresser. Empty. Closet? Nothing but odds and ends.

How was this possible? Eventually he had to give in and wear the dress shirt he bought for his parent’s second wedding. It was about two sizes too small. He prayed he didn’t bust a button while trying to sell illuminated manuscripts to a Cardinal.

He managed to make the sale and not flash a man of the cloth. Now, it was time to confront that scavenger of his.

 

* * *

 

“Rey?” No answer. She must be out back. Hmm, where to look, where to look? Ben had never been much on material goods, but he made sure to own enough shirts to get him from one laundry day to the next.

The bed was still unmade, so he adjusted the sheets as he thought. They smelled incredible, like sex and Rey and the kind of happiness he never thought he’d actually achieve. But they also looked like a lot of sex had been happening on them, so he pulled off the top sheet. Rey had repaired an old washer and it worked perfectly, as long as you didn’t mind wearing ear plugs when it was on.

He climbed on the bed to get to the far corner. Fitted sheets were the devil. He finally managed to pull it loose, it had been so tightly stretched over the mattress. Removing it he saw why.

It was his shirts. All of his shirts. A complete extra layer on the mattress made of his shirts.

“REY!” He opened the window overlooking her workshop. ”REY!”

She came out, wearing those cutoff jean shorts he loved so much. She squinted up at him. “What?”

“Can you please come up here?” He asked sweetly.

She shrugged and opened the back door. He could hear her steel-toed boots stomp up the stairs.

“What’s all the fuss-” She froze in the doorway. “Oh.”

He stared at her, his favorite grey shirt crumpled in his hand.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Blushed furiously. “Fine, you can move in.”

 

* * *

 

**Five Months Later**

Rey remembered very little about the first five years of her life. She remembered the cold english rain. She remembered hunger and being woken up in the night by shouting. She remembered having her hair pulled in three tight buns and being to told to ask the nice church lady for a few quid while Mommy went to talk to that man on the street corner over there. She remembered the flight to America, her father’s knee jiggling the whole time.

And she remembered her birthday. November 2nd.

She didn’t remember her first day in care, but she imagined she told them her name, her birthday, but she had no school, no fixed address (they were always getting kicked out of flats or leaving in the middle of the night) and no telephone number.

She had never been able to do much for her birthday, but she had always found some way to mark it, even it meant being light-fingered at the Dollarama. When she confessed to Ben, in the dark, wrapped around his warm, broad back, that her birthday was coming up, she felt like that bit of honesty had been her present to herself. Someone else knew it was her birthday, someone else who cared would share it with her. It gave her a warm feeling.

Then he had a work trip.

They hadn’t been apart more than a day since they shared his heat together and now, TWO days before her birthday he had a super important, super vague work trip to go on? 90% of Ben’s work was conducted over the internet, the other 10% through a PO Box in Winslow, but now he had to see some seller in person?

She refused his kiss goodbye, giving him her cheek. He kissed it softly and nuzzled behind her ear, scenting her lightly.

She regretted her coldness when she went to bed that night. He had folded the shirt he had worn yesterday on top of her pillow and left his beloved copy of The Arabian Nights translated by Richard Burton on the bedside table. She knew it was his way of saying he would be coming back.

It was very sweet and very Ben, but if he ever went away overnight again, leaving her in a bed drenched in his pheromones, she was demanding sex toys as compensation. Expensive ones.

One mediocre orgasm later, (she muffled her cries with his shirt, biting the collar tightly. She hoped it was was stretched out beyond use and she could claim it as her night shirt. The grey tee was her favorite) Rey fell into a light and fitful sleep. The next night wasn’t any better.

The morning of her birthday the honking woke her up.

Rey flung Ben’s shirt on and grabbed a pair of shorts from the floor. “What the fuck?” The clock said 5:07 am. That’s it, she was grabbing her baseball bat. Rey flew down the stairs, clutching the wooden bat from under the bed. This guy was going down.

She threw her front door open, teeth bared, to find an exhausted looking Ben Solo leaning on a sky blue 1977 Ford Millenium Falcon. It was more dings than frame, but it had the original wing tips and fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. It was going to take hundreds of hours to restore and thousands of dollars to repair and she loved it so much. She took a running leap into Ben’s arms, kissing his face, nipping at his chin and all around, making a mess of him completely.

“The back seat?” She whispered in his ear. Why not? It was still early.

“Uh no. No thanks, I’m pretty sure I was conceived there.”

“What?!?”

He walked her backwards in the hallway, kissing her deeply. “I’ll explain later.”

 

* * *

 

**Five and a half months later**

The explanation kept getting pushed back. First it was sex, then breakfast, then cake, then sex with cake and, well, then they needed a nap. Ben had driven the whole night through, so she didn’t want to wake him when her bladder finally forced her back into consciousness. She quietly creeped outside, keys in hand and began to work. And then she got… distracted.

The Falcon was a gorgeous mess. Seriously. There were bits of three different engines under the hood. She had no idea how Ben had managed a 32-hour road trip in this vehicle, she was just glad it hadn’t blown up on the way.

She did have to admire the maniac of a mechanic who had kept it going for so long.

First thing up was inventory, and then ordering the parts. She had no idea how she was going to find paint that matched the original, but she would or die trying.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that she decided to bring up the car’s provenance. She wished Ben could knot outside of his heat. That would be the perfect way to have this conversation. Oh well, she would just have to let him go down on her until he tired himself out.

It was her third (or maybe fourth?) orgasm before she pushed his head away. He had that same satiated smirk he always had when he made her come, despite still being as hard as a rock. She scooted down on the bed between his thighs, and took him in her hand. The only thing he liked more than seeing how many times he could make come on his tongue, was to mark her by coming on her tits. He would rub his spend on her breasts until she cried for mercy or another round.

He was playing with said tits when she got up the courage to ask, “So, whose car is it?”

Ben’s typical aftergrow daze melted off his face. “Um. My dad’s.”

Rey fought not to react. “Yeah? He didn’t want it anymore?”

“No. He loves that car more than anything, except possibly my mom.”

“So, why did he give it to you?”

Ben sighed and hid his face in her arm. “He gave it to you.”

“What?!?”

Ben lifted his head. “I wrote him and my mom about you. Told them about your shop and how we were living together. I told them,” he looked away, idly tracing shapes on her belly. “That you make me happy.” He kissed her belly button. “He offered.”

“That’s quite the gift.” He mumbled agreement. “Especially for a girlfriend they have never met.”

“Rey.” His stare was as direct and intense as she had ever seen it. “Rey, you know you aren’t just my girlfriend. You must know.”

Rey felt the prickle of tears. She did know, even if she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. “Come here,” she whispered. He moved up to rest his head against her chest. She stroked his hair. “I’ll have to thank them sometime.”

“Sometime,” he agreed.

She smiled and let a few tears escape. They had all the time in the world.

 

* * *

 

 **Six months later: Christmas**  

Rey and Ben didn’t talk about money. The rare books, criminal past and extremely luxe hotel suite she had found him in, indicated that he wasn’t hurting for cash, but Rey didn’t ask about it. He lived frugally, even begrudgingly accepted the coupons she clipped when it was his turn to do the groceries. She had never seen him turn down his nose at a Costco sample and didn’t argue when she insisted they split the rent 50/50.

Sure, sometimes he “found” rare auto parts for a steal online or a leather bound book of fairy tales from the 1850s would show up on her bedside, but if he wanted to go on pretending she’d allow it.

Until Christmas.

“Ben, what the fuck?”

“What?” He was bent over a water-damaged manuscript from the 1830s. The writer’s handwriting had been near impossible to decipher _before_ the leak in the ASU rare book library and now it was, well, worse than Latin. Ben could read Latin.

“Ben!”

“What?” He turned to see Rey brandishing a Christmas card with his mother’s hand writing on it. “Oh. Hmm, I don’t know if that it supposed to be a nice gesture or a dig. She was really angry I didn’t call at Hanukkah. It’s eight days, Benjamin, you could have managed one call. And you didn’t let me tell her it was my heat.”

“Your heat is only four days, Ben, that is not an excuse, and forgive me if I don’t want to share my rut schedule with your parents who I haven’t even met yet!” Rey shook her head. “You are distracting me! Why did your mom sign the card Leia Organa?”

Ben gave her a blank stare. “Because that’s her name?”

“But your name is Solo!”

“So? I know you haven’t met my mom yet, Rey, but believe me when I say changing her name would not have been up for discussion.”

“Leia Organa. THE Leia Organa. Congressional Medal of Honor recipient. First woman appointed National Security Advisor to the President. The Senator who ran UNOPPOSED for her third term because the Republicans didn’t want to waste money in running against her? Leia ‘please, please, run for President and keep old white men out of my uterus’ Organa?!?”

“So, you’ve heard of her,” Ben said dryly.

“That means-” Rey dove for Ben’s phone (it had less cracks than hers). He tripped getting out of his desk chair, trying to stop her.

“Please, please don’t google me!”

“Your grandmother was a frigging Queen! You’re a prince!”

“It’s not even a country anymore! After WWII, Palpatine divided it up and gave pieces of it to all his cronies.”

Rey poked him in the chest. “Be honest, do you have a title?”

Ben tried, he _tried_ to think of something, _anything_ to say that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “It’s purely ceremonial.” He grumbled, not meeting her eyes.

“Does the ceremonial title come with any land?”

Ben was really in for it now. “A villa on the coast. Maybe a couple other properties. I’m not sure.”

Rey let out an inarticulate screech. “You’re not sure!?!” He wasn’t even sure she was still talking to him. “He’s not sure,” she told the ceiling in amazement. She threw his phone back at him. “You are buying me a new phone! And I AM getting that catalytic converter off eBay!”

Rey also bought some old People magazines from the 80s off eBay and plastered pictures of “America’s Little Prince” all over the bathroom.

He took all and any comments about his ears with the stoicism of a true Prince.

 

* * *

 

**(Almost) 12 months later**

Rey turned over the OPEN sign on the window to CLOSED. She watched Ben do the same across the street. He had woken up with a slight fever and Rey felt ready to crawl out of her skin. They weren’t sure if his heat triggered her rut or they were just on the same cycle, but this would be their third heat, each six months apart. It seemed like an inefficient system for baby-making to Rey, but Ben figured heat was such a vulnerable time (not to mention calorie-depleting) that evolution must have thought it was too much of an effort to expend every month. Which explained Rey’s rare periods. That, and Ben, were the best endorsements for Alphaness that Rey could imagine. Well, and the insane amount of orgasms.

They were still shooting in the dark about a lot of the facets their designations. It was hard to divide instinct from generic desire. It was even harder to know what was because they were an Alpha/Omega pairing and what was the co-dependent obsession of two people who desperately wanted to have someone to love.

Ben tended to blame things on instinct. Rey thought most of their issues came from completely different backgrounds, (She was NEVER going to get over his ‘ceremonial’ title) mixed with stubbornness and some truly awful parenting.

When it came to biting though, Ben might be right.

Their last heat Ben begged the whole time. She tried to give him what he wanted, every part of her devoted to his pleasure, but when he so sweetly bared his neck and asked for her bite, she had frozen. The smell of his distress was torture, especially when her body told her that her purpose was to make him feel safe.

 _Babies_ , her body cried. _Mate. Have babies._

She wasn’t ready.

She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for babies. What if something was broken in her? Maybe she wouldn’t be capable of that type of love. Her parents hadn’t been. Ben understood. He had more than a few fears about his own ability to be a good father. She wanted to argue that he would be an amazing dad, but he had just listened to her worries, not dismissing or minimizing them, so she kept quiet and held him like he had done for her. She was too young and too in love to think about kids anyways. Some mornings it was only the strength of old habits that got her out of bed when he was still in it. He was ridiculously sweet, surprisingly funny and grouchy like an old man. He hated almost everything about the modern world, except for the internet and air conditioning. He adored and distrusted his parents in equal measure. He loved her beyond sanity and maybe they were a bit too wrapped in each other, but Rey didn’t want that to change. Not anytime soon. Maybe never.

But mating… Maybe she was ready for that.

They had no way of knowing what would happen when she bit him. The books couldn’t even agree on the location of the so-called mating gland. Some said it was on the back or even the groin. Ben felt like it was right where his shoulder met his neck, just behind the important arteries and nerves that served his left arm. Rey had to agree that she felt drawn to that spot. His smell was so strong and she could feel the beat of his heart against her chest when she nuzzled there. Honestly, she could live there and since even her breath against that spot made Ben a horny, dazed mess, she found herself licking and nibbling it more and more as his time came.

His long legs ate up the distance between their shops. He was out of breath, but Rey knew that wasn’t from the short distance. He said the wanting made it hard to breathe, but her scent helped.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She leaned against the open doorway, just enjoying looking at him. God, her omega was just so much, she almost couldn’t handle it - his eyes so dark, his shoulders so broad, his lips so lush. She couldn't wait to have him.

“Rey,” he whispered. She could see him hardening in his jeans, aroused by nothing but the appreciation in her eyes and her scent on the wind.

“You want to be mine, Ben? For real?” His pupils dilated more than she would have thought possible in the late afternoon sunshine.

“Please.” She took his hand and led him upstairs. They would figure it out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Congressional Medal of Honor](http://www.cmohs.org)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think. Comments make my day.
> 
> LilibethSonar created an insanely gorgeous artwork for this story. Check it out on her [twitter.](https://mobile.twitter.com/LilibethSonar/status/1120002200527360000) Thank you Lilibeth!


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